


The Tree on Malpercio Hill

by runawayballista



Category: Baten Kaitos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-05
Updated: 2009-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:09:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawayballista/pseuds/runawayballista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Marno wants to do is climb to the top of the tree beyond the boat, just like he saw Thoran do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tree on Malpercio Hill

On the hill out back, which lay just beyond the raincloud that hung perpetually over most of Naos, was a huge, gnarled tree. Marno had no idea how old it was, but he liked to think it was at least as old as the Earth itself. 

Marno could see the hill and its tree from his bedroom window. He could remember seeing, when he was even younger, Thoran and Seph – usually mostly Thoran – climbing the tree. Once, when he’d been sick, Thoran had carried him on his back away from the rain, to the soft sunshine on Malpercio Hill, and he’d shown Marno how he could climb to the very top of the tree. He’d even plucked a leaf from the top and given it to Marno. Marno secretly treasured that leaf and kept it in his pocket until it was nothing more than crumbled, dry flakes. To Marno, that little leaf had represented freedom.

Marno was ill again. The village doctor said that this time, it was the rain. The rain had gotten into his lungs, made his breath all wet. Marno wheezed with every breath – his chest rattled – and when he coughed it felt like he was choking on the very Ocean. He’d been made to stay in his bed until he got better, and from his window he could see the tree. It glowed softly in the warm sunlight, as if taunting him. It was so cold and dark here. Marno never understood why he and his brothers and sister couldn’t just go live on the hill under the tree, where it was warm and almost never rained.

Pieda had gone to Rasalas to get the medicine, and she’d told him he wasn’t to leave his bed until she got back. The room was dark and cool, but the world beyond his window, it seemed, was warm and inviting. He gazed at the tree on Malpercio Hill, leaning against the wall limply. It wasn’t fair, he thought, that Thoran got to climb to the top of the tree and he hadn’t.

Ven was taking a nap on the bed below his. Marno knew Ven was the heaviest sleeper of them all, and from the sound of it, he was far into his dreams by now. Breath rattling quietly, he pulled the covers away from his body. The wet coldness of the room seeped into his skin.

The rain that dripped down from above had made the wood permanently damp and soft, and the ladder creaked under Marno’s weight. His feet padded almost soundlessly on the cold floor, and he slipped into the hallway, leaving Ven undisturbed on his bed.

Luckily for Marno, no one seemed to be about. As he passed through the hall, he heard Seph and Thoran speaking in serious tones in one of the rooms. Marno secretly thanked the heavens that they were preoccupied and moved on.

Outside of the boat, exposed to the full force of the never-ending rain, it was even colder. Marno coughed and shivered under the freezing rain, feeling his lips go numb under its relentless torrents. He’d left without his shoes, and his feet were quickly losing feeling as he hurried away from the boat, after the small patch of sunshine in Naos. He felt a warm breath of air when he finally broke away from the boundaries of the raincloud, and he shivered again – this time in delight – and shook the rain from his hair.

The tree stood there as it always did, up on Malpercio Hill. The hill was a markedly steep one, but despite that, whenever they could get away, Marno and his siblings played there often. Seph and Thoran and Pieda were acting more and more like grownups lately, though, and they seemed to have less time for play, but Thoran was never too busy to spend time with the younger brothers. He seemed to remember their needs too, despite how busy he had become with matters of the village.

The grass was slightly damp under Marno’s feet, but pleasantly so. Leaning forward, he started up the hill. He and Ven liked to have roll-races down the hill. Ven always won, though; he was rounder and more suited to rolling down hills. Marno was lanky and strung out like a beanpole and he always spiraled off to the side, and once he’d hit his foot on a rock. That never stopped him from having roll-races down the hill with his older brother, though, because rocks on the hill were just a fact of life.

Marno’s breathing was more labored than he would have liked to admit by the time he got up to the top of the hill. Feeling like he’d at least earned a little bit of a breather, Marno sat down against the tree and waited for his breathing to ease. Closing his eyes, he placed the flat of his palm against the tree trunk. It was rough and warm against his clammy skin. It felt like home.

After a few minutes, Marno got to his feet and took a few steps back so he could look up at the tree. It was massive, as far as trees that Marno had seen went (which was not many); in fact, Marno could say with absolute confidence that it was the biggest tree he’d ever seen. Straining his neck to look up at the top, now, he was reminded of why it had been such an accomplishment and awe to watch Thoran reach the top. Perhaps that feat could not be so easily achieved after all.

Well, Marno thought, reaching for the lowest branch he could find – the tree’s lower branches snaked across the ground like inverted roots – Thoran had always said there was nothing worth trying that wasn’t a challenge.

At first, it was easy. Marno had played on the thick lower branches of the old tree on Malpercio Hill before, often with Ven and sometimes with Pieda when she wasn’t acting so serious and grown up. The first parts of climbing the tree were deceptively forgiving, and Marno could almost forget about his difficulty breathing for a moment.

Then, suddenly, there was no easy next step. Instead of lightly hopping from low branch to low branch, now he had to do some actual climbing. Marno scrambled up the side of the tree, pulling his body onto branch after branch and wheezing with each ascent. The limbs of the tree were getting thinner as he rose, but he was paying little heed – his attention was more focused on breathing steadily and brushing away the little bushels of leaves that seemed to like snapping against his cheeks and arms in the most discouragingly irritating fashion. Had Marno not held great respect for the tree, he might have been tempted to snap one of the twigs off in retaliation.

It seemed to Marno that as he climbed higher, the air had changed somehow. He stopped on a branch to suck in a breath of this new air – it felt and tasted clearer, crisp, new. For the first time since he began his ascent, Marno chanced a look downward. It was hard to tell how high he’d climbed, but to the little boy sitting in the tree, the distance to the ground was dizzying and intoxicating all at once. Entranced, he crawled out further on the branch, lifting one hand into the sun to the sky. It seemed so close, now. He wondered if his wings would ever grow strong enough to take him there.

Marno had never felt so –  _glorious_. That was the only word he could think of for it. Now he knew why Thoran had climbed to the top of this tree. So entranced was the little boy by his sunlit revelations that he didn’t notice the dangerous creaking of the branch as he recklessly started to turn around to head back to the trunk of the tree. By the time Marno realized what was happening, he was already plummeting to the ground.

There was a heavy thud and a sickening crack as Marno connected soundly with Malpercio Hill, his left arm twisted awkwardly beneath him. The wind knocked clear out of his chest, Marno wheezed and gasped for breath as he began to roll down the steep hill, unable to stop himself. Holy terror blossomed in his chest; he couldn’t move, and he could barely breathe. Stars exploded before his eyes, clouding his vision into darkness.

The next thing he remembered, he was lying uncomfortably on the ground. His left arm felt peculiarly numb. The world around him listed suddenly to the right, and his vision doubled, tripled, and slid back into focus. He felt sick.

“…you okay?” he heard Thoran’s voice saying, far too distantly for the face that appeared directly in his field of vision, blocking out the sun. “Marno – Marno, are you all right?”

Marno let out a wheezing gurgle. Thoran slipped his hand under the younger boy’s head.

“Hey – hey, take it easy, okay?” Thoran knelt beside him, keeping his head steady. “What are you doing out here? You know you were supposed to stay in bed until Pieda got back.” He frowned, but it wasn’t a reprimand. Marno took several deep, unsteady breaths before he trusted himself to speak.

“I wanted to climb the tree,” he rasped, a wave of nausea rising up in his stomach. He couldn’t move his left arm. He was pretty sure that wasn’t good. 

“Looks like you fell out of it instead,” Thoran chuckled, his humor partially masking the concern on his face. “I think your arm might be broken, little brother.”

“Yeah,” Marno said dazedly. “I fell. All the way down.” He coughed, and his stomach lurched again. “I wanted to get to the top, like you did.”

Thoran quirked a wry smile as he slid his arm around Marno’s neck, slowly propping him up into a sitting position. “Well, you picked one hell of a time, Marno. Come on – let’s get you back inside. Pieda’s back with the medicine. She can look at your arm, too.”

“Pieda…is gonna be mad,” Marno groaned, the frightful realization descending upon him. “I wasn’t supposed to go.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry about it, little brother.” With great care, Thoran lifted Marno up, cradling him in his arms. “I can’t carry you on my back if you can’t even hold on,” he said teasingly.

“Sshh,” Marno slurred. He’d meant to tell Thoran to shut up, but the words weren’t coming out. His left arm dangled limply from his shoulder, and he felt a burning sensation shoot from his elbow to his shoulder. “M – my arm hurts,” he whimpered.

“I know, brother,” Thoran murmured. “Just bear with me, okay? We’ll be home soon. You can tough it out, right, Marno?”

“Mmmgh,” Marno gurgled in response. Thoran decided that was as good an answer as any.

Pieda was standing expectantly in the doorway to Ven and Marno’s room when Thoran arrived with their baby brother. “Marno!” she said exasperatedly. “Didn’t I tell you not to go anywhere until I brought the medicine for you?”

“I’m sorry,” Marno mumbled, still feeling oddly dazed. He must have fallen farther than he’d thought. Had he hit his head? “I wanted to climb the tree…”

“He fell,” Thoran told Pieda, moving past her to set Marno gently down on Ven’s bed. “I think his arm’s broken.”

Pieda’s exasperation turned halfway to concern, and she knelt beside the bed to look at Marno’s arm. “It’s definitely broken,” she sighed, and placed her palms over Marno’s upper arm. A white glow began to hum in the space between.

“It hurts,” Marno gurgled.

“You shouldn’t have gone anywhere to begin with,” Pieda scolded him. “Marno, you’re too sick to go anywhere – I told you to wait for me!”

“Aw, relax, Pieda,” Thoran said, shaking his head. “The kid just wanted to have a little fun for once. I don’t blame him. Besides, I’m proud of you, brother – trying to climb to the top of the tree all by yourself? I’m impressed you made it that far!”

“ _Thoran_ ,” Pieda said, looking nettled. For the second oldest, Thoran never did seem to have the sense of responsibility she and Seph possessed. “I need you to set his arm for me so I can heal it properly.”

“Is – is it gonna hurt?” Marno croaked.

“Probably,” Thoran told him.

“Thoran!”

Marno squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. When the sharp crack came, he let out a fierce yelp and tried to jerk away, but Thoran held him down. The invasive prickling glow of Pieda’s healing magic crawled under his skin, mending what had been broken.

After another few minutes of magic, Pieda pulled her hands away and got to her feet. “It’s still going to need another week or two to heal,” she told Marno sternly. “And you’re not to leave the ship without telling one of us first, Marno! Especially when you’re sick. We worry about you, you know!”

Marno was feeling too tired and weak to do much more than look sincerely apologetic. Thoran gently ruffled his hair. “Just rest up, little brother,” he told Marno. “You need to let your body heal, so you can go back and conquer that tree, huh?”

Marno smiled weakly. “I’ll get to the top, Thoran,” he rasped. Thoran grinned down at him.

“You’d better bring me a leaf back when you do,” Thoran said, and reached for the covers to throw over Marno’s little body.

  



End file.
